Separate Anxiety
by Noxbait
Summary: Tag to episode 13.17, "The Thing." A brief glimpse into what they were thinking during the final scene.


_**Hi! So this is a short tag to the last scene of this week's episode, "The Thing." Just popped into my head as I was rewatching the ending again. There was a LOT of stuff going on between the boys that wasn't explicitly stated. So I decided to attempt to get into their heads and see what was running through their minds during this emotional scene. This is un-beta'd as I literally threw it together in the past hour or so lol. Hope it's not too bad. ;)**_

* * *

There was no time.

From the moment Ketch had appeared, time seemed to have sped up, leaving Sam reeling.

Ketch was in their home. _Again._ And he wanted to move in now? His flippant comment about taking the top bunk had sparked something dark and raw deep in Sam's chest and he'd quickly responded to let the man know that no way in hell was he welcome.

And it wasn't just Ketch.

He'd brought Gabriel. _Gabriel!_ Back from the dead? Sam hadn't wrapped his head around that yet; not that there'd been any time to even talk about the situation.

There was no time.

Because they had all the pieces they needed to open the rift and Dean had jumped to lightspeed while Sam had still been trying to process...everything. Sam had inelegantly tried to verbalize his hesitations and concerns on the subject while Dean had effectively shut him down. It had stung when Dean had made the executive decision to leave him behind and take Ketch.

Ok, it had done a lot more than _sting._

The bottom of his world had fallen out at that moment as he'd tried to wrap his brain around the suggestion that he not accompany his brother. And then Dean had made it completely clear. Completely clear.

 _I don't care if_ he _dies._

It was a simple statement. Cruel even, but Sam didn't give a crap about Ketch's feelings. The statement had been so simple and yet had packed such a punch it had nearly knocked him off his feet. Ketch might not have heard everything Dean _hadn't_ said, but Sam had heard it. Loud and clear.

 _I don't care if_ he _dies. I only care if_ you _die. This creep is expendable; you aren't. So don't fight me on this. Stay here, stay safe, so I don't have to worry about you._

So Sam had backed down, with reservations. He'd done the spell. Dean had placed a hand on his shoulder, but Sam hadn't been able to respond. Hadn't been able to look at him right then because he knew if he did, his tenuous willpower would evaporate and he'd be begging Dean to reconsider and give this entire insane idea a little more thought before he rushed off into the rift.

Only as Dean was about to walk into the rift was Sam able to make eye contact and it had been every bit as painful as he'd expected it to be. He was being left behind while Dean went into hostile territory with no one but an _enemy_ to watch his back. Once he was gone, Sam would have twenty four hours of terror to wait through.

They exchanged a glance and Sam had a thousand things he needed to say, but he couldn't find his voice. He could read a similar level of conflict in Dean's expression. But there was no time. No time for goodbyes or last words or anything else. They weren't alone and they had no time.

It seemed like they were always out of time. Always saying goodbye. Always losing each other.

Sam clenched his fists as he watched his brother walk through the rift.

It wasn't goodbye and Dean was coming back.

He had to believe that for the next twenty-four hours.

It was all he had.

* * *

Dean had planned to sit down with a beer and try to come to terms with the fact he'd very nearly become …. Well, he didn't know exactly what he'd nearly become but given that it was an angry tentacle monster from another world, he was really glad he hadn't found out.

But then Ketch had interrupted their plans and Dean had been ready to shoot him on principle alone for waltzing into their _home_ again. They were supposed to be _safe_ in the bunker. So much for safe. He'd still been debating shooting the man down when he'd revealed he wasn't alone.

And then Dean had changed his plans and his focus.

They had what they needed to get back through the rift to find their Mom and Jack and that was all Dean could see. While Sam tended to Gabriel, Dean had packed up and made his decision. He and Ketch would go through that portal and Sam would stay behind. It was a plan that he knew would be met with complete resistance.

And it had been.

Dean would have preferred to talk it out in private, but there was no time. No time to make a more solid plan. No time to reassure Sam. There was no time because it had already been too long since their Mom and Jack had vanished into the terrifying world that still gave him nightmares. There was no time, so he didn't give Sam any time.

He shot him down, trying to be as merciful as he could while doing it.

Sam's arguments he could deal with, could shoot them down with logic. Could point out how little Ketch's life mattered. Could point out that he would need someone to come find him if he got trapped. He could easily shove aside the partnership they'd worked hard to build over the years and revert to old roles.

He was the big brother and what he said was what they were going to do.

End of story.

Dean could deal with Sam's anger and his arguments and his questions. And he did.

What was nearly his undoing, though, was the confusion, hurt, and _fear_ he saw in his brother's eyes. Sam had been confused by his seemingly rash decision. He'd been hurt by Dean's decision to leave him behind and take Ketch instead. And he was _afraid._

It ripped into Dean's heart and nearly tore the willpower out of his iron-fisted grip. He couldn't back down; couldn't give an inch.

Because he'd be damned if Sam was going to wind up in that hellish world ever again.

So he'd stood by as Sam did the spell. He'd checked the time. And he'd taken an assessing glance at his brother. Sam wouldn't look at him and Dean knew the emotions were far too close to the surface for him to even attempt to say anything. It was obvious Sam was barely holding it together as it was, so he settled for resting his hand on his shoulder for a moment.

And then he'd walked toward the rift.

He glanced back and this time Sam met his eyes with a hesitant nod. Dean hoped he was making the right decision. He hesitated for the briefest moment, wishing he'd spared a little more time to reassure his brother, but there was no time.

It seemed like they were always out of time. Always saying goodbye. Always losing each other.

Dean clenched his fists as walked through the rift.

It wasn't goodbye and he _was_ coming back.

He had to believe that for the next twenty-four hours.

It was all he had.

* * *

 _ **Hope you enjoyed! I have to say, I'm a little jealous. The boys only ("only") have to wait 24 hours...we have to wait a WEEK to find out what happens next lol!**_


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